Sour/Wild

Beer Ricotta Raviolo with Egg and Herb Butter Sauce, time to get fancy!

Plus a book giveaway!

It’s somewhere North of 3 am and we’re walking the winding back country roads of Big Bear, California. Thin dresses swishing in the cool August air as we try to walk back into town from the wedding Linda and I are in the mountains for.

Giggly and drunk on wine and still love-high from the touching vows we’d witnesses, we realize that we’re only “sort of” lost as we try to navigate the dusty walk back, void of any sidewalks or street lamps. Our ride had left hours before we did, and since this isn’t the sort of place that Uber inhabits, we decide that walking back down the mountain is our only option.

Grateful that one of the grooms insisted we wear flats—the more appropriate footwear choice for a mountain wedding over the heels we both reluctantly left in the hotel—we realize that running may be necessary when the only vehicle we’ve seen so far suddenly takes notice of us.

As the semi-truck pulls to a stop near us the driver climbs out of his cab to make his way towards us, and we bolt. In unison, we run towards town and around the bend in the road. Like a desert oasis, we see the hotel. Sprinting towards the doors, we finally stop to catch our breath once inside. We look at each other and burst out laughing. Not sure if we were in any real danger, or if the wine had turned a guy just checking on a flat tire into a sure-threat, we don’t care. We’re safe, slightly drunk, and happy.

Since that day Linda has steadily become one of the most important people in my life. Helping me in ways she can’t even understand through two of the most difficult points in my adult life. From frantic texts at midnight to long talks over bottles of wine, she’s the sort you always want to find solace in when the storm hits, or celebrate alongside when the moments are perfect. Although meeting her, years before the Big Bear wedding, I was immediately intimidated.

At a food conference in Los Angeles, she seemed to just appear in front of me. Tall, beautiful, wickedly smart, and incomprehensibly talented, she’s the sort you should be intimidated of. With a rapidly growing following and several TV shows and appearances under her belt, she’s the type that can pull of being pretentious and snobby. She could even get away with it, if she wanted. But the thing about her, possibly the most endearing part, is that there isn’t a trace of that in her, not one bit. She has a heart of gold, a passion for social justice, and she connects with damn near everyone. She won’t just remember you, she’ll remember the story you told her three years ago about your mom being in the hospital and she’ll ask you about it. She is just so likable. She’s also charmingly inappropriate, and wildly unpredictable. Which just makes you like her more.

She’s spent the better part of the past two years pouring herself and her immense knowledge of pasta into her new book, Pasta, Pretty Please, and it’s beautiful. If you don’t follow her on Instagram, you’re missing out, it’s the most impressive feed you’ll see.

I’m giving away a signed copy of the books that won’t just teach you how to make pasta, it will make you fall in love with it. You can enter on Instagram. Don’t have an Instagram? Share this post on Facebook (make sure it’s public so that I can see!) and post a link to your Facebook post in the comments below.

Linda has offered to sign the book for you, or Linda has also offered the option for her to sign your boobs, or both if you’re up for it.

3 tablespoons Apple Cider Vinegar (you can also use lemon juice, or a combination of the two)

For the Filling:

6 large egg yolks

For the Sauce:

½ cup unsalted butter

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 large leaves sage, minced

Leaves from 1 sprig rosemary, chopped

½ cup chicken or vegetable broth

Salt to taste (the amount of salt you need will be dependent on the broth you use)

¼ cup fresh grated parmesan

Instructions

Make the ricotta:

In a pot over medium high heat (do not use an aluminum pan) add the milk, cream, salt and 1/3 cup beer.

Clip a cooking thermometer onto the side of the pan.

Bring the liquid to 190°F degrees, stirring occasionally to prevent the bottom from scorching. Keep a close eye on it, the liquid reaches and passes 190 very quickly and you don’t want it rising above 200.

Remove from heat, add the 2 tablespoons beer and then the vinegar (or lemon juice) and stir gently once or twice. It should curdle immediately. Allow to sit undisturbed for about 5 minutes.

Line a large strainer with 1 or 2 layers of cheesecloth; place the strainer in the sink over a large bowl.

Pour the ricotta into the strainer and allow to drain for 15 to 30 minutes and up to an hour (the longer it drains, the firmer the consistency)

Place in an air-tight container and store in the fridge, can be made up to 3 days in advance.

Make the green dough (skip if you aren't making the decorations):

In a large saucepan over high heat, bring the salt, baking soda and 8 cups water to a boil. Add the parsley and boil it for 15 seconds, remove it and place in a strainer, run under cold water to blanche. Drain and press out the water.

Add the parsley to a blender along with the eggs, blend first on low speed, then increase the speed and green liquid until smooth.

Strain the puree with a fine mesh strainer, reserving the green liquid and discarding the pulp.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, combine the flour and puree. Mix on low speed until a ball of dough forms. Raise the speed to medium and continue to knead for 3 minutes (or by hand for 6-8 minutes) until the dough is smooth and elastic. Cover the ball of dough with plastic wrap and allow to rest at room temperature for 30 minutes (you can also refrigerate the well-wrapped dough for up to three days).

Make the red-orange dough:

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, combine the flour, eggs and tomato paste. Mix on low speed until a ball of dough forms. Raise the speed to medium and continue to knead for 3 minutes (or by hand for 6-8 minutes) until the dough is smooth and elastic. Cover the ball of dough with plastic wrap and allow to rest at room temperature for 30 minutes (you can also refrigerate the well-wrapped dough for up to three days).

*(skip to step 17 if you aren’t making a decoration) Cut the green dough into four equal sized pieces. Roll one piece out several times to make it thin enough to pass through your dough roller (wrap up the remaining pieces so they don’t dry out).

Pass through your dough roller on the widest setting, then again. Close the dough roller one more stop to make it thinner (one away from the widest setting), pass the dough through twice. Fold into thirds, like a letter going into an envelope. Pass through your dough roller again with the folded ends on the sides (this will make the sides of the dough sheet straight rather than jagged).

Continue to pass through the dough roller stopping down to a thinner setting every two passes until you reach halfway between the thinnest and thickest setting.

Using a cookie cutter, cut out 6 of your desired decoration shapes, set aside while you work on the rest of the Raviolo.

Cut the red-orange dough into four equal sized pieces. Roll one piece out several times to make it thin enough to pass through your dough roller (wrap up the remaining pieces so they don’t dry out).

Pass through your dough roller on the widest setting, then again. Close the dough roller one more stop to make it thinner (one away from the widest setting), pass the dough through twice. Fold into thirds, like a letter going into an envelope. Pass through your dough roller again with the folded ends on the sides (this will make the sides of the dough sheet straight rather than jagged).

Continue to pass through the dough roller stopping down to a thinner setting every two passes until you reach two stops away from the thinnest setting.

Repeat for one more piece of red-orange dough.

Make the Raviolo:

Lay the pasta sheets on a flat surface lightly dusted with flour.

If using a decoration, brush the top of one sheet of pasta with water. Brush the bottom side of the green pasta decoration with water. Place the decorations evenly spaced every 6-8 inches on the sheet of dough. Gently roll with a rolling pin to press together and adhere.

Add the ricotta to a piping bag or a Ziplock bag with the corner cut off.

Make circles of ricotta (a ricotta “nest”) on the blank pasta sheet evenly spaced every 6-8 inches. Nests should be about 3 inches across with a well big enough to just nestle an egg yolk into.

Place one unbroken yolk into each nest. Brush the pasta with water around each nest.

Carefully move the sheet of pasta with the green decorations on top of the sheet with the ricotta nests. Line the sheet up so that the green decorations are directly above the egg yolks.

Press firmly to adhere the top sheet of pasta to the bottom, taking care to remove all the air and seal the dough together.

Cut each Raviolo between each nest making 6 individual Raviolo. Allow to dry for about 15 minutes, flip over and allow the bottom to dry for about another 10 minutes.

Prepare a large pot of salted boiling water.

In a large saucepan melt the butter over medium heat. Stir in the garlic, sage and rosemary, cook for about 5 minutes.

Stir in the broth, cooking until warmed, salt to taste. Allow the sauce to simmer gently but not boil.

One at a time gently add the Raviolo to the boiling water, boil for 2 minutes. Using a large slotted spoon or a Spider, gently remove and allow all the water to drain off. Add to the sauce, cooking for an additional 3 minutes in the sauce while gently spooning the hot butter on top of the Raviolo.

Add to a plate with a spoonful of sauce, top with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese, serve immediately.

Notes

The green pasta decoration is optional. I used a hop flower cookie cutter, but any cookie cutter will do. Feel free to skip this step, it's mostly asthetic and skipping it will not diminish the overall flavor of the dish.

I’m completely committed to the idea, and then I decide what I really need to do is make a whole batch of beer-infused caramels because that makes sense RIGHT after Halloween, obviously.

But then I decide to give them away (you know, because no one I know has WAY too much candy already), but before I do I need to eat some to figure out if they’re good or not. Then I eat more, you know, just to be sure. Which is a total lie because I like lying to myself about sugar consumption on a regular basis. I always get away with it, I’m an excellent self-liar. Although I’m terrible at lying to humans who aren’t me, I’m way too transparent.

Try it, ask me to lie to you about something I really want to lie to you about and you’ll be able to see right through me. No, I don’t like those shoes but I like you and I don’t want to hurt your feelings. No, I wasn’t ignoring your text, I just, ummm, there was… a bear in my yard?….and he was thirsty….

That’s how you know this is actually a really excellent use of 15 minutes, and completely delicious: I can’t lie to you. They’re also a great way to make holiday gifts and pretend like the batch only made 30 and not 60 because you would never just sit in your kitchen eating 30 caramels by yourself. It was that bear in your yard, he was also hungry…

I never really know where my day will take me. One day I’m trying to figure out how to make a bacon rimmed cocktail, the next day I’m trying to find sour cream in Panama (by the way, it’s hard to do). Somedays I want to make you something easy, something you’ll want to make for dinner. And some days I want to eviscerate a stone fruit and fill it with hot cream as if George R. R. Martin is writing my recipes.

This is falls in the “sounds super fancy and hard but its really easy,” which is my all time favorite recipe category. Ever made duck confit? Or rum whipped cream? Then you know these tricks too.

These hollowed out peaches aren’t a one trick pony, that can do many, many delicious things. Grill ’em and fill ’em with ice cream. Poach a few and fill with whipped cream. Whatever you do, tell me about it. I can’t get enough peaches this time of year.

I used this Kitchen torch, because it’s amazing, easily one of my favorite kitchen tools. (affiliate link)

In a saucepan off heat whisk together the cornstarch, salt and cream. Add the vanilla bean pod and the scrapings from the inside. Add to medium heat until bubbles start to appear on the outside, remove from heat.

In a medium sized bowl whisk together the egg yolks, and sugar. Slowly whisk in the warm cream.

Return the mixture to the pot, add the beer, simmer until thickened, stirring frequently.

Cut the peaches in half, remove the seed. Scoop out the center with a melon baller, leaving about ½ inch of peach intact on all sides.

Place the peaches in serving bowls to keep them stable. Pour the mixture into the center of each peach. Refrigerate until set, about 3 hours.

Sprinkle with a thin layer of sugar, Brulee with a kitchen torch until golden brown. Serve immediately.

If you close your eyes, and take a second, you can put the taste of sourdough bread side-by-side with a sour ale. The flavor is liquid sourdough, the notes are so similar, and there is a good reason for that: it’s the same process.

Sourdough bakers and sour ale makers are cultivating the same thing: a wild yeast strain, as well as a wild bacteria called lactobacilli. Sourdough bread tastes sour because of the same two things that make sour ale taste that way. When combined, those two microscopic beasts team up to leaven your bread, ferment your beer, while bringing you that beautiful tang (*Not all sour ales contain lactobacilli, but plenty do).

Because of this, making your sourdough starter with a liquid that a master brewer already spent weeks insuring contained both a wild yeast strain AND lactobacilli puts you ahead of the game. Water is fine, but a sour ale is like water with super powers.

Things to keep in mind:

The warmer the room, the quicker the starter will start. If you have a cold house, plan on the starter and the dough, taking much longer.

Avoid the temptation to clean the crock between feedings. Soap kills bacteria which is what you are trying to cultivate.

If you want a more sour starter, feed less often (once you get to twice a day feedings, just feed once a day for a few days).

Starting with a whole wheat or rye flour will give you a better likelihood of finding wild yeast as its less processed than all-purpose flour. Once you start, you can switch to all-purpose flour.

If your mature starter is looking weak, try a few feedings with a sour ale instead of water.

Adding a few tablespoons of starter to a regular bread recipe (along with all the rest of the ingredients including the commercial yeast), will help it rise higher and faster and give it a nice flavor.

Sour Ale Sourdough Starter Recipe

Step one:

Combine 1 cup (120g) flour (whole wheat flour works best to start), and ½ cup (4oz) sour ale that has both lactobacilli and Brettanomyces (ask at your local bottle shop, a beer like this should be easy to find) in a glass, ceramic, or clay crock. Stir until all the flour has been moistened. Cover loosely with a lid or plastic wrap (not air tight, you want some air going into the crock) and allow to sit at room temperature for 24 hours. (Cover the remaining beer and allow to sit at room temperature for your next two steps).

Step three:

Continue feeding once a day as directed in step two for three days. Once 12 ounces of beer has been used, switch to warm water (filtered water works best). On the fourth day begin feeding twice a day, as directed in step two. One feeding first thing in the morning, second feeding at night.

Step four:

Once your starter doubles in size in less than 2 hours, it’s ready to use. This could take as little as one week and as many as three weeks. Colder environments will take longer, warmer temperatures will be quicker. Once you’re ready to use the starter measure out what you need for your recipe, feed your starter and place in the fridge.

Step five:

Feed your starter once a week. It can live indefinitely, starters have been known to live for decades, and in some communities are passed down through generations. When you want to use your starter, take it out of the fridge, feed it, and allow to come to room temperature before using (about 6 hours, overnight if the room is cold). Feed it again and then put away.

Add the dough to a well floured surface, kneading until the dough is no longer sticky and very elastic, about 20 minutes (this can be done in phases). Towards the end of kneading, add in the kosher salt (salt is very important for flavor but can impede the yeast so it’s best to add it last).

Oil the inside of a large bowl. Add the ball of dough to the bowl, loosely cover and allow to rise until doubled in size, about 4-6 hours.

Preheat the oven to 425F.

Once the dough has risen, it will probably also have spread. Gently tuck the sides under the dough to make a smaller, but higher, ball of dough, transfer to a lightly oiled Dutch oven. Using a sharp knife, slice the top of the bread in an X, sprinkle with coarse salt. Add the lid tightly onto the pot.

Bake for 50 minutes or until the dough has a hard crust and is dark brown.

Collaborations are more than a partnership, more than a blending of ideas or a meeting of brewing minds. It’s a handshake that says, “I trust you, I trust your ideas, and I’m putting my breweries name on the line to prove it.”

More prevalent in the beer world than in nearly any other industry, collaborations yield beer that makes noise far beyond the distribution reach the resulting beer has.

Just yesterday one of these whispered about collaboration brews showed up on my door, three thousand miles from the closest distribution location, and half a world away from the origins of the collaboration. Sam Adams out of Boston, Massachusetts and Mikkeller from Denmark came together to produce a wild ale that merges more than just the ideas and experience of the two locations, but ingredients from both.

Each brewery brewed a beer, Mikkeller a sour cherry wheat beer, and Sam Adams a Strawberry Blonde ale, and the two batches of beer were merged into one beer and finished with a little more funk (brett & lacto). The result is an incredible wild ale that offers fruit, grain, yeast and water from two distinct parts of the world in one bottle. Many of the brewing worlds most brilliant minds spending countless hours on one project that will have a very small distribution, as a celebration of experimentation and the love of beer.

Bugs & Berries is both well soured and beautifully balanced. The gorgeous tart cherries and strawberry flavors are both well blended, and distinct in their own right. Bold fruit forward flavors with mild wheat back notes, without being overly-sweet and the funk to let you know it’s a proud sour but without any off-putting pucker. This is a beer that I would drink all day. If you are lucky enough to come across this beer, buy it. Buy two.

Add ¼ cup beer, 1 cup sugar and 2 tablespoons butter to a pot over high heat. Stir until the butter has melted and the sugar is dissolved. Bring to a boil for 4 minutes or until dark amber. Do not stir after the sugar starts to boil, but you can swirl the pan if hot spots start to appear.

Remove from heat, add the baking soda and 2 tablespoons beer. Stir until well combined. Add the pecans and cranberries, stir until well coated.

Spread evenly onto a baking sheet that has been sprayed with cooking spray or lined with parchment paper.

Bake for 15 minutes. Remove from oven, sprinkle with salt. Allow to cool before braking apart. (Can be made 3 days in advance. Cool and then store in an airtight container in a cool place).

Turn oven heat up to 350F.

Peel the apples, cut in half lengthwise, and scoop out the core with a melon baller.

Place the apples, cut side up, a baking sheet that has been sprayed with cooking spray or lined with parchment paper.

Sprinkle each apple with about 2 teaspoons brown sugar, place 1 tablespoon of butter on top of each apple.

Bake for 15-18 minutes or until apples are fork tender.

Remove from oven, add to a serving plate.

In a bowl add the mascarpone and powdered sugar. Beat on high with a hand mixer until well combined. While the mixer is running slowly add the remaining 2 tablespoons beer, beating until well combined.

Add the mascarpone to the center of the apples, sprinkle with the pecan and cranberry pieces. Serve immediately.

Notes

*Granny Smith apples hold their shape better than other apples, some varieties will turn to mush when baked so be careful of the variety you choose.

I have to show my cards when the very glaring hole in my beer resume is revealed the moment I am forced to admit that I don’t brew. I’m not a brewer, I’m just here for the beer. I’ll stick to what I’m good at and leave that to the pros. There is enough mediocre beer in the world without my adding to it. But don’t forget that every industry has more jobs that the Rock Star positions that get the focus. Music needs producers, PR people, engineers, designers, writers. So does beer. I’m not sure if I have the patience or disposition for the time, failure, cleaning, and re-working that brewing demands. I’ll contribute in a way that I can, and just spend my days imagining what I’d make if I get another chance to get behind a brew kettle with one of those pros.

I always have a bit of a list of beers that I’d brewed if my imagination was able to take the solid form of a bottled beverage. Right now, I’d brew a Saison. I’d use matcha and peaches. Or apricots and butter. Can you brew a beer with butter? I have no idea. Yogurt, I know that’s possible. But butter? My talents don’t reach those avenues. But if you do brew, and you make a Saison with matcha and peaches, or apricots and butter, please let me know. I’ll want to get my hands on that.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Drop about ¼ cup balls of dough onto the parchment, evenly spaced.

Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly golden brown and cooked through.

Cut the apricots in half, remove the pits. Add to a preheated grill, grilling until grill marks appear, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat, slice, add to a bowl and sprinkle with brown sugar, toss to coat.

Add the mascarpone to a bowl, beat until light and fluffy. Add the heavy cream, beat on high until soft peaks form. Add in the powdered sugar, vanilla and ginger, stir until combined.

Split the shortcakes, fill with mascarpone whipped cream and apricots.

Garrett Oliver starts an effortless soliloquy about the beer we’re drinking. A careful and accurate dissection of flavor, body, and aroma of a replica batch of a 133-year-old Carlsberg beer. In his cashmere voice he talks, almost without thinking, to tell me his thoughts on the beer we’re drinking.

He’s a beer celebrity if there ever was one. I wonder if the center stage he always takes while in the company of beer people is something he likes as much as he seems to. In a crowd like this you can watch the wave of acknowledgement and awe wash over the faces of the people in attendance as his presence is noted. Whispered tones sneak through the crowd in a way that reminds me of my days in Hollywood and the drunken celebrities that I crossed paths with. Similar in a way, but this seems like a deeper connection. A beer celebrity is given that crown because of accomplishments, knowledge, and achievements. Not because of sex tapes, DIU’s and antics. It’s as much fame as it is reverence. Beer celebrities have earned their spot through decades of hard work, magnificent beer, and an unwavering dedication to people in this community. It’s more than just fame, it’s glory.

I wonder if he likes the attention or if he just puts up with it. I wonder because it’s impossible to tell, he seems as effortless as coffee in Paris. I wonder because we don’t want him to stop showing up and telling us what he thinks of the beer.

Add ¾ cup of flour (reserve the other 3/4 cup), salt and sugar to a food processor, pulse to combine. Add the butter and shortening, process until well combined and dough gathers around the blade and is slightly fluffy and whipped (this will be far more processing than most recipes, but this will create a new fat, making the crust incredibly flakey).

Add the remaining flour and pulse 6-8 times or until all the flour has been combined.

Transfer to a bowl. Using a rubber spatula, stir in the beer until completely incorporated into the dough (don’t add the beer in the food processor or your dough will turn into a cracker). Dough will be very soft.

Lay a long sheet of plastic wrap on a flat surface, add the dough to the center.

Form into a flat disk. Wrap disk tightly in plastic wrap. Chill until firm, about 3 hours and up to three days.

Preheat oven to 350.

Knead the dough lightly in hands until dough comes together and warms slightly. Roll out on a lightly floured surface to form a large circle, about ¼ inch thick.

Cover a baking sheet with parchment paper, transfer the dough circle to the parchment paper.

In a medium bowl add the cream cheese, 1/3 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon cornstarch and 2 tablespoons beer. Beat with a hand mixer until well combined.

Add the cream cheese to the center of the dough in an even layer, making sure to leave the outer 4 inches of the dough bare.

In a medium bowl add the peaches. Sprinkle with 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1 teaspoon cornstarch, toss to coat. Add the peaches on top of the cream cheese layer.

Add the blackberries to the bowl, top with remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon cornstarch, toss to coat. Add blackberries to the center of the galette.

Fold the bare edges of the dough up over the filling, using the parchment paper if necessary.

Transfer the baking sheet to the freezer, freeze for 15 minutes. Alternately you can chill in the fridge for 30-45 minutes (or overnight). This will help the galette stay together when baking and help the crust to be lighter and flakier.

Brush the crust with melted butter, sprinkle with sugar.

Bake at 400 for 30-35 minutes or until crust is golden brown. Allow to cool prior to serving.

I pretend, over here on the other side of this computer, that I’ve got my shit together. And you pretend to believe me. But really, I’m a mess. I had to have someone teach my how to organize a file cabinet. My talents don’t extend to organization, I’d rather make duck confit and lemon soufflé than an Excel spread sheet.

I spent all day trying to make Apple Pie Bars with Stout Caramel Sauce and Cinnamon Pale Ale Short Bread Crust and then this happened. Yesterday I had Honey Stout Glazed Salmon with Asparagus Blackberry Salad for lunch, but I had cereal and popcorn for dinner. In front of the TV.

I also have a bit of an overly enmeshed relationship with my UPS guy. He’s at my house roughly 6 times a week, sometimes even twice a day. He reads my blog, knows about my family and always has a guess as to which brewery I’ve received beer from that day. Someday’s he’s basically my only in-person human conversation, which makes his sunny attitude that much more of a benefit to our daily chats.

When Lagunitas sent over Aunt Sally, neither of us had the opportunity to play that “who sent this?” game, the name was on the side of the box. It sat in my beer cellar (the bottom shelf of my fridge) for a week while I decided what to do with it. I like fruit with sours. I also like something to balance it, something round and warm and mellow and buttery to counter the pinchy sour-tart flavors of a wild ale. So this happened.

Really, I just let myself open this as a way to console myself for the apple pie bar fiasco. Then the recipe just sort of happened. But I’ll let you pretend like you believe that it was a calculated move all along.

Because I like you and my obsessive food geek research should be of some use to someone other than me.

Carbonation. This isn’t a closely held secret, it’s been used for years to make tempura batter light and pancakes rise a bit higher. Lucky of us, beer is a wealth of carbonation with a little kick of yeast for good measure.

For the beer, look for something with a nice level of carbonation and more malt than hops (think brown ale flavor rather than IPA hoppiness). For best results with your carbonation secret, make sure the carbonated liquid (even if you decide to forgo the beer and use seltzer water) is ice cold.

Cornstarch.This one came from well respected recipe developer Pam Anderson (no Baywatch jokes please, she’s heard ’em all). I’ve long been a fan of how cornstarch thickens my sauces, adds amazing texture to chocolate chip cookies, as well as keeps my beer cheese sauce velvety and prevents it from separating, now we have a new reason to stock the cabinets with this magical secret ingredient. It makes your waffles crisp on the outside while the inside stays light and tender.

Meringue (egg whites PLUS sugar). Whipping egg whites separate from the batter and folding them in has long been a staple of the perfect waffle. If you don’t take the time for this extra step you’re just making pancake batter.

Which results in soggy dense waffles, so you might as well just make pancakes. As I’m sure you’ve noticed egg whites deflate in seconds, meringue doesn’t. Add some sugar to those whipped whites and you’ll have something that holds up.

Oven resting. If you’re making breakfast for a crowd there is a good chance there will be a long delay between the first waffle being born and the last. Preheat the oven to 200, add the cooked waffles to a baking sheet and keep them warm in the oven while you finish making the feast. It will also help to keep the waffles crisp.

There you go, all the beer-geek-waffle-knowledge you can handle on a Monday morning. Now go out there, open a beer, and make yourself some crispy waffles.

For the blackberry syrup I used Brombeere Blackberry Gose from Odell brewing. I love this beer, it accomplishes something very few other sours can: balance. It hits that perfect mark that gives you the beautiful funk you look for in a sour while still rounding out the flavors with a bit of malt and grain that often get lost with wild ales.

You can taste the berries nicely but it’s dry rather than sweet, giving it an insane drinkability.

Add the blackberries, sugar, and sour ale to a large pot (larger than you think you’ll need, it will bubble to 4X it’s volume) and boil, stirring frequently until slightly thickened and the blackberries have broken down, about 10 minutes. Allow to cool slightly. (if jam is too thick once it has cooled add more beer and simmer until it has loosened up). Jam can be made several days in advance.

Preheat a waffle iron.

Set out three bowls, one large and two small.

In the large bowl stir together the flour, half the sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cornstarch.

In one of the small bowls add the melted butter and peanut butter, stir until smooth (microwave slightly if this is difficult). Add the buttermilk, beer and vanilla, stir until well combined.

Separate the eggs putting the yolks to the peanut butter bowl and the whites to the third bowl. Stir the yolks into the peanut butter until well combined.

Whip the egg whites until stiff peaks form, addd the remaining sugar and continue to whip until speaks return.

Make a well in the dry ingredients, add the peanut butter mixture, stir until just combined. Gently fold in the egg whites.

Brush the waffle iron with melted butter, add the batter and cook according to manufactures specifications. Place in a 200 degree oven to keep warm until ready to serve.

Serve warm with syrup.

Notes

Look for a beer that is fairly malty but with some nice carbonation like an Abby ale or Farmhouse ale or a Dubbel. Stay away from IPA's or high hop beers. A malty pale ale will work as well, or a well carbonated brown ale..

The ones that seem comfortable, safe, predictable. We know the boxes, and we don’t grow in there. We stagnate. The world is huge, it’s full of experiences waiting to push us past the people we’ve decided to become and into the people we can be, if we can let go for a second.

Sour beer, that might be a little bit of a let-go scenario for you. Sour beers are beers that have been infected, on purpose, by wild bacteria. I know! It sounds awful, it sounds like a problem that needs to be solved, and sometimes it is.

But this is the original beer, the way beer was first made, more for lack of options than intentionality, when beer was in its infancy. Love it or hate it, sour beers (most common are Lambics, Flanders Red Ales, goes, gueuze, wild ales, etc.) are incredibly hard to make. The balance of flavors, the wrangling of a wild strain of yeast, the way it all comes together.

So what are you in for the first time you order one of these guys? Sour. You’re shocked, I know. There is a tartness that can range from a mild funk to a glass of boozy sour patch kids. It turns out, these are also hard beers to cook with.

This, my friends, is my first sour beer recipe. I used Odell Brewing‘s Pina Agria, a sour beer with a nice pineapple flavor, because, shockingly enough, it was brewed with pineapple. It’s a great one to try if you’re into sours.

Try a sour, if you get a chance. Add one to the flight at your next taproom visit. Maybe you’ll love it, maybe you won’t, but at least you’ll know.

Summer is about a lot of things. The things you can’t find in any other season, things that close your eyes and open your heart. The feeling of the sun on bare shoulders. The breeze against your slightly sun scorched neck. Friends wandering into the back yard, pulling up a chair. There’s a magic in it all, a sense that you’re being begged to stop for a second. To just slow down long enough to hear the breath in your lungs. Summer lasts about 93 days, just a bit more than a handful.

Hesitate, and the moment has passed you by. Make excuses long enough, the leaves will be falling before you get a chance to indulge your summer fantasy. Summer is a small escape, an excuse for things you don’t normally allow. Blame the exposed skin, the flushed face, the raised body temperature. Blame the heat and the water and the long days that stretch into starlight evenings.

These nights call for a drink that makes you radiate the season, that make you want to indulge and celebrate. I, of course, add craft beer and grilled fruit. Obviously.

I used an imperial saison, Funkwerks Tropical King. It has a beautiful, bright summery fruit flavors and a larger than average ABV. Perfect for summer nights, no matter how calm or rowdy.

Reserve two rings for garnish. Cut the remaining rings, removing the skin and core. Add the pineapple flesh, about 2 cups, to a blender or food processor along with the lemon, brown sugar and whiskey. Blend until smooth. Add to a serving container, refrigerate until chilled, can be made a day ahead of time.